Apocalypse with a Hint of Angel
by Luna del Cielo
Summary: When the Trickster snaps Castiel out of the 'Changing Channels' game show, the angel finds himself in an alt version of L.A. where demons roam the streets and a dragon lays claim to the air. And there's a vampire with a soul?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **

**Summary: **When the Trickster snaps Castiel out of the 'Changing Channels' game show, the angel finds himself in an alt version of L.A. where demons roam the streets and a dragon lays claim to the air. And there's a vampire with a soul?

**Setting: **Final episode of Angel, Season 5 where Wolfram and Hart are sucking Los Angeles into Hell.

**Characters: **Castiel, Angel, Spike, Illyria, Gunn, Wesley, mentions of Gabriel/Trickster, Dean, and Sam. Thinking this might be Gunn-centric, in addition to the focus on Castiel, mostly because I've never done a Gunn fic before. We'll see…

**Inspiration: **This fic was inspired by a line in claudiapriscus' Grace Note on ffnet.  
_You don't say anything, and he continues, "You were pretty unforgettable. As was the world in which you trapped me."  
You frown, momentarily distracted. "...Buffy?"  
"Twilight," he corrects, and you wince internally while shrugging outwardly._  
This made me think of how Gabriel could have snapped Castiel into an alternate dimension – like the Buffyverse! ;) And that got me to thinking…just how would Cas' presence change things?

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Angel, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or Supernatural. Some 'Angel' dialogue stems from the episode "Not Fade Away", care of the website Buffyworld.

* * *

The air crackled with electricity, sending vibrations through their bodies, their souls. Darkness engulfed the city, extinguishing every light, both physical and metaphysical. As the members of Angel Investigations stared out into the sea of demons and unholy creatures, they tugged on the ember of hope within their soul, begging for it to flare again, to comfort them with thoughts of survival. But the darkness soaked into their soul, snuffing that light and leaving them shivering from the coldness it left behind.

Gunn staggered and crumpled against the alley wall, holding his stomach as the blood seeped out past his fingers. His head swam as the blood loss began to leave him incoherent, but he mustered up what strength he could when he looked at his friends. He would be dead soon but if he could go out fighting for people he cared about, that's all that mattered.

Illyria stood still, her feet wide apart as she readied her weak form for the coming attack. Not for the first time she wished fervently for her former form, a gargantuan tentacled mass with the power to crush a legion of enemies with one movement of her body. The body of Winifred Burkle was lithe but frail. Her spirit gave it strength but the Mutari Generator stole much of her powers. Even the pathetic servant of the Wolf, Ram, and Hart – Hamilton – was able to easily dispose of her. As her eyes narrowed at the amassing demons approaching them, Illyria thought that it was possible that tonight may be her final night. Tonight had been Wesley's final night.

That last thought displeased her. Suddenly Illyria was filled with the desire to make belts from the spines of her enemies.

Bittersweet emotion filled Spike as he prepared himself for the coming fight. There was a part of him that knew this was where he was meant to be – after all, Emo Boy couldn't finish this on his own! – but he regretted never reaching out to Buffy, never seeing her once more. Did she know he had come back? Instantly he disregarded his thought. He would be dead soon enough, he figured. Knowing Spike had come back only to die again would not make the Slayer feel better.

Angel thought of his friends, those he led into death. Doyle. Cordelia. Now Wesley, soon Gunn. No matter how many humans he saved, he was still always a couple too short. He thought of Connor and how his son had come back to help him fight Hamilton. Now, looking at the legion before him, he felt strength enter the coldness of his bones, for he was the last defense against evil for humanity, for his son.

The army of bloodthirsty demons appeared. Their numbers were in the hundreds, thousands. They were sorely outmatched.

Gunn called out in a matter-of-fact voice that hid the weakness lying within. "OK. You take the 30,000 on the left..."

Illyria gave him a curious and almost admonishing look. "You're fading. You'll last ten minutes at best."

Gunn climbed up, forcing his weak legs to support him as he held aloft his battleaxe. "Then let's make 'em memorable."

Angel stepped forward and his comrades followed. The noise of the stampeding hoards grew louder in their ears, echoing off the pavement that draped across Los Angeles like a death shroud.

"In terms of a plan?" Spike asked.

"We fight," Angel answered simply.

"Bit more specific," Spike added as the demons neared, less than a hundred feet away at this point.

Angel stepped forward, a grim smile flickering on his face as he stared up into the sky, taking noticed of a great roaring beast. "Well, personally, I kind of want to slay the dragon."

Guttural screams filled the air as the demon army attacked.

"Let's go to work," Angel stated as he swung his sword at the first attacker.

They fought for minutes that felt like hours. Illyria ripped spines out of bodies and choked other opponents with them. Angel beheaded and skewed each beast that approached him. Spike embraced his former self, the vampire who took shit from no one, and threw himself into the crowd; paying especial care to watch Gunn. For his part, Gunn assisted, but his strength was lost and if it wasn't for Spike decapitating a few demons, Gunn would have died quickly.

Something hit Gunn in the gut, perfectly matching his already fatal wound, and he slumped to the ground. As the purple horned demon stood over him, he thought he would certainly die.

And then something happened, causing all the demons to let out high-pitched wails of fear and pain.

A bright light filled the sky, almost blinding Gunn, and something tumbled from a tear in the hemisphere. It fell like a comet and dozens of the demons burst into flames at the light, while others cowered in terror or ran. The object fell in front of Gunn, landing on the purple demon that was effectively burned to death by the object's radiating light. The object flickered and dimmed, leaving an average looking dark-haired man in a trench coat and a tie. Frightened and relieved, Gunn leaned forward to inspect the man, noticing that his friends were glancing at the man in the lapse of the battle; although after a moment the demons attacked even more zealously.

"Hey man, you okay?" Gunn prodded as he tapped the dude on the arm. Typically things that fell out of the sky were of the big and evil variety, but he figured anything that happened to kill demons was probably alright in his book.

The man groaned, his eyes blinking open. Wide blue eyes took in the scene of darkness and despair, and he quickly sat up. "Where am I? Where did the trickster put me?" he asked Gunn in a gravelly voice that made Gunn think of detectives from 1950s television shows.

"Uh, not sure who the trickster is, but you're in L.A," Gunn offered. A cough ripped from his throat and blood speckled his hand when he tried to cover it.

Blue eyes assessed him relentlessly before scanning the demon hoards. "This is not the L.A. that I know." The eyes turned concerned as they looked at Gunn again, although his face was stoic. "And you are dying."

"Eh, we're in the middle of an apocalypse. Wolfram and Hart is trying to suck the city into Hell." Gunn shrugged, but that involuntarily human gesture cost him as pain racketed through his body.

"The Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart?" the man repeated in a low voice. "The Trickster stuck me into this lost dimension? The one that evil claimed so long ago?" His lips pressed into an angry line. "I had thought the connection between our world and yours had been sewed in the ancient past. Opening up the link…is he insane?"

Gunn really wasn't sure who or what the Trickster was, but he sounded like bad news. Also, why the hell did they have the crappy dimension? Why couldn't they get daisies and puppies, like this dude must have had?

The man climbed to his feet. "I must find a way to leave this place immediately before the Winchesters are harmed. I wish you success in your battle."

"Uh, dude?" Gunn asked with a cough. He could feel his heart slowing. There simply wasn't enough blood to circulate his body. "Maybe on your way out you could take out a bunch of these fools?"

The man gave him a look of pity but he said nothing at first. The only sounds were the roars of battle, of Illyria's fist breaking bones, of Spike tearing flesh, and Angel's sword ripping through demons. Finally, he nodded. "Perhaps I can help. Nothing occurs without reason."

Then he placed two fingers on Gunn's temple and something _warm _flowed into Gunn. It felt wondrous and more exquisite than anything he had ever felt. His stomach began itching and Gunn looked down, his eyes glazed from the pleasure of it all, and he saw his wound began to heal before his eyes. Within a minute, he felt better. Stronger.

"Thank you," Gunn whispered. He truly couldn't believe it. Who was this dude?

The man's head cocked to the side and his lips twitched, as if they were reaching for a smile but did not know how to do that. "I am Castiel, an Angel of the Lord."

Gunn was stunned. "Well…_damn_," he finally managed. A smile broke free onto his face.

These demons were toast.

* * *

**A/N**

Another new story! I just couldn't resist. When inspiration happens I have to write it before I lose it.

So. Thoughts? Want to see this pursued?

Thanks for reading :)


	2. Best Damn Lightshow Since Chinese New Ye

**Best Damn Lightshow since Chinese New Year**

* * *

Castiel, the angel who had fallen out of the sky and managed to save Gunn's life, cocked his head to the side as he stared at the demon army with a curious expression. "I have not seen these types of monsters before."

Gunn, feeling like tap dancing with joy, picked up his battle-axe and shot the angel a grin. "That's 'cause they're not monsters, angel boy. They're demons. No worries. Decapitation or sword to the heart usually does the trick."

Eyebrows furrowed, Castiel shook his head. "No, demons are the twisted souls ascended from hell to infect humans. These are monsters."

On some real talk, Gunn was not about to get into a philosophy of demons versus monsters. "Whatever Cas. Either way, them being dead is the game plan. You in?"

At the mention of 'Cas', the angel shot Gunn a strange look, one that appeared almost pained. "Destroying monsters is a more than adequate game plan," he nodded succinctly.

Gunn hesitated as he glanced over Castiel's form, noting his empty hands. "You sure you don't want a weapon? I think there's a sword back behind us in the alley."

The corner of Castiel's lips quirked momentarily. "I am not in need of such things."

Perhaps in demonstration, Castiel grabbed the first demon he saw and pressed his palm against the oily black creature's skull. White light flared where flesh met flesh, and the demon flickered light like a burnt out Christmas bulb, before crumpling to the ground.

"Wicked," Gunn breathed. Then, he set about using his battle axe, enjoying his first kill as a vampire turned to dust.

Yeah, he was just human. Gunn knew that. Had known that since he was a teen. Some people say humans have no right fighting the supernatural because they weren't strong enough, not skilled enough. Gunn said that those people were little bitches. When you have bloodthirsty beasts on your doorstep you learn and do what you need to in order to protect your people. So now, after more than a decade of hunting the big and bad, Gunn used his wits and muscle memory to evade and attack every demon that stepped in his path.

To his right, he saw Castiel fighting as well. Most of the time he did the cool forehead firework trick that snuffed out the big uglies, but after a while the demons got smarter and began ganging up on him. Gunn saw Castiel get stabbed twice in the process and Gunn swore under his breath. Call him a 'glass half full' kinda guy but he thought that an angel would be the equivalent of Superman on speed.

"Gunn! Who is that guy?" Angel asked as he jump kicked a furry Chewbacca like dude and slashed the throat of something with a snake head.

"An angel!" Gunn called back, coughing a little as he inhaled some more vamp dust.

"What? But that's _my_name!" Angel shouted back, his voice sounding just slightly petulant.

"He said that he is _an_angel, Overhanging Forehead!" Spike snorted. His remark cost him – that slight loss of concentration caused him to get kicked in the abdomen by a seven foot tall dude with dreadlocks and canines longer than Gunn's fingers.

"I am of the Host of Heaven's Garrison, foul beasts! You will not live to see this day!" Castiel seethed after receiving a particularly nasty cut to the arm. He raised his hand and the entire demon army – hundreds of them – flew back out of the arm hundred of yards away.

"Most impressive," Illyria stated matter-of-factly as she trained her cerulean eyes onto the angel.

"Yeah, well we need to regroup. Maybe even…retreat. I don't know," Angel sighed tiredly as he leaned onto his sword, using it as a crutch. "I knew Wolfram and Hart would be pissed but I didn't think they'd do something this bad."

Castiel strode up to them and Gunn waved him forward. "Hey, well that's why we got my new buddy Castiel here," he smiled.

"Charles, you are no longer oozing with fluid. What has changed?" Illyria asked. She assessed his healed form with wonder.

"Angel boy performed some miracle on me," Gunn grinned. He still couldn't believe it – but hey, he wasn't questioning it. Their lives sucked about eighty percent of the time so he wasn't about to turn down some good karma.

"Demons, you will die like your brethren," Castiel swore in a hard voice, glaring at Angel, Spike, and Illyria. "Step back, Charles Gunn."

When an angel talked, you listened. Gunn stepped back without thinking – not to mention he didn't even bat an eye when the angel knew his name. He figured that was part of the gig.

Castiel raised his hand towards Illyria's forehand but she grabbed his wrist and snapped it, then pushed him back. "I am _not_some common beast, angel, for you to exterminate. I…" Illyria blinked, like she was struggling with the words. "I am helping humanity today."

Spike snorted at the absurdity of the situation. None of them would have predicted this a few months ago.

"I see the evil within you and these two vampires," Castiel stated, rubbing his wrist until the bones mended themselves. "Within minutes the hoarde will be back. I do not wish for enemies at my back."

"Whoa, just hold on here a second," Angel scoffed. "Are you serious? I've got a soul. And I'm a Champion!" Maybe it was just Gunn, but that last sentence sounded a lot like a whine.

"Whatever," Spike scoffed. "_I_fought for my soul and died already once as a sacrifice to save the world from the First Evil. Plus, I'm a bloody champion, too!"

Confusion spread through Castiel's features. "I do not understand. You reek of evil…"

"And they're good," Gunn promised as he stepped in front of his friends. "Angel and Spike here have their human souls. They're good."

"Well yes," Castiel replied in his graveled voice, giving Gunn a look like he was a toothless idiot. "Vampires have souls. It is why they are sent to Purgatory upon death."

"Purgatory! Bloody hell, I want some paradise!" Spike burst out obstinately, a scowl set upon his face.

"Uh, wait, you said we're from different worlds, right?" Gunn said quickly. After all, he had paid the price for his legal knowledge – he sure as hell would use his argumentative skills for good.

Castiel nodded.

"Right then. Well in our world when a human is turned into a vampire, they lose their soul and a demon takes over. But Angel and Spike – although the demon lives within them – they have their human souls and live good lives. No drinking human blood at all."

"Not a lick!" Spike added. Then, under his breath, he mumbled, "Unless someone's offering…then maybe just one lick…"

"And the blue demon?" Castiel asked.

"I am Illyria, God King of the Primordium, Shaper of Things." Illyria stared the angel down, willing him to bow to her power. Castiel flinched and then his expression hardened.

"I have heard of the Old Ones…long ago." Face blank, he stared at Illyria. "You should not be walking on this earth."

"Neither should you. Your kind lost this world before I even reined this land," Illyria answered in a suspicious tone.

Gunn glanced behind them and saw they had a minute left, tops, before the demons surged. "Whatever. Just know we're all in this together. Okay? No killing each other. Got it?"

Castiel glanced at him. "I trust you for now, Charles Gunn."

Spike snickered and everyone looked at him. "What?" he asked with a smirk. "Am I not the only one who sees the broody resemblance between Angel and the angel?"

Rolling his eyes, Gunn focused on the battle. "Uh, Cas, can you do a big light thing? Like how you did when you fell out of the sky?"

"Yes," Castiel answered cautiously. "That is possible. But it would destroy your friends, the demons, if they witness it."

Gunn grinned and shouted, "Hey guys! Duck into that dumpster ASAP!"

Scowling, Illyria barely refrained from growling. "I am Illyria. I do not enter into containers of human waste products."

"Just do it," Angel said gruffly as he grabbed the god king's shoulder.

Once they were hidden, and Gunn had killed the three nasty looking dudes trying to jack him up, he shouted, "You're in the clear, Cas!"

The angel, who stood amidst a sea of forty new demon carcasses, nodded. "Close your eyes, Charles." He held out his hands and spoke something in a language that set Gunn's teeth on edge; it sounded like white noise, and then pure white light flared across the alley.

Seconds turned into minutes as Gunn shut his eyes and crouched onto the alley pavement. The scent of burning flesh wafted into his nostrils and death cries pierced his ears. Vibrations through the air sent his teeth chattering. Although he knew it wouldn't be hugs and puppies if he opened his eyes, there was a part of him that wanted to see _so_badly.

Finally, the flaring white light behind the thin skin of his eyelids receded. Carefully, he peeked out. Seeing that the best damn lightshow since Chinese New Year was over, Gunn looked to where he saw Castiel last – and gasped.

A sea of thousands of demons, both inside the alley and outside, provided for a burnt and crispy carpet for this side of L.A. Nothing was left standing…literally nothing.

Shocked and worried, Gunn scanned the area for Castiel. His tan trench coat stood out over the black demon blood, and he rushed to the angel's side. Castiel was asleep – or worse. His eyes were closed and Gunn wasn't even sure if the guy was breathing or if his pulse was working. Then again, did angels need to breath and have a pulse? And was it possible that Gunn just couldn't feel it over the thunderous rush of his own blood pounding in his ears?

"Gunn? Is it clear?" Angel called out.

Gunn nodded, but realized a second later they couldn't see him. "Yeah," he croaked out.

Strangely, Gunn was awash in emotion at the sight of the angel lying, perhaps dead, at his feet. Castiel had just entered his life less than thirty minutes ago, but he had already saved Gunn's life and perhaps saved everyone's life. It didn't help that Gunn's mama had been a fervent believer when he was a kid, and he didn't think it was a good thing to have a dead angel on your hands.

Numbed, he barely noticed the excited remarks of his friends as they surveyed the damage.

"Nice job, Charlie," Spike grinned as he slapped Gunn on the back. "I sure do like it when you make new friends."

"I think he's dead," Gunn said in a hollowed voice.

Illyria gazed unconcerned at the angel. "Doubtful," she replied after a moment. "Angels are almost impossible to kill without the right tool."

"Great, so we take angel boy and then…" Spike looked at Angel helplessly. "Did you by any chance have any plans after 'suicide mission'?"

"Ah," Angel smiled bashfully. "The thing about suicide missions is that there's really no plans for afterwards."

"Yeah, but do you really think Wolfram and Hart will be letting up this easy?" Gunn asked with a glance at the reddening sky. "Until I'm seeing sunshine I'm thinking we still have a problem."

"You're right," Angel nodded. "This just might be a lapse in the war. Who knows what's next."

Gunn sighed. "Then we better find a safe place to squat and take angel boy with us."

It seemed the battle was over, but not the war.

* * *

**A/N:**

Coming up, there is a fated reason why Cas got thrown where he is right now…and that maybe the person he's searching for in S5 has been hiding in this universe all along… ;)

Note: Some readers may feel Cas killed those demons pretty easily. But he _is_ a professional bad ass when it comes to demon killing, so they were really no match. Plus, he's done stuff like that in canon, too - and we all know how weak BTVS demons are in comparison. However, Cas won't always be a bad ass…especially when there's something much bigger and badder hiding out there in L.A...


End file.
